While Rome Was Sleeping

by M. S. Forsythe

  Andrew studied him out the corner of his eye responding to the unfinished sentence. “No, there is probably too much in her luggage that I don’t want or need to know, but thanks for the thought anyway, Neil.”

  At the Center they were met by Father Ben and Jim Savalza who had arrived early.

  Father Ben greeted them warmly offering coffee, saying to Neil, “It pleases me you can see where Mr. Kelshaw spent his last hours,” as he directed them to his office where he had brought extra chairs,

  After introducing Neil to Jim as ‘Evan Scott’, Andrew thanked Ben and selected a chair and settled in. Jim took a chair close to Ben’s desk and withdrew a notebook from his breast pocket and laid it on the corner of the desk beside him.

  Father Ben suggested that Evan sit at his desk while he settled beside Andrew, and so they began; all looking at Scott expectantly.

  “You will not hear anything from me that is considered to be classified, but I may say some things that are sensitive, so what we talk about here today should remain in this room. Can we agree on that?” Evan’s eyes focused on Jim and the notebook.

  Jim nodded. “Yes, I for one understand and agree; but before we get started I need to know, is the government going to take over the investigation of George Kelshaw’s murder?” he asked, putting his notebook back in his coat pocket.

  “For the moment it will be better to keep the investigation here in your office,” Evan replied. “There is more at stake than George’s murder, and so I will be in communication with you regarding your findings, if that is agreeable with you.”

  Jim nodded his acceptance, aware that the murder had far reaching ramifications and he suspected that Evan Scott was a powerful player. “What about your agency or the CIA?”

  “No,” Evan responded. “I’ll handle the matter at my end.” Then looking intently at Ben, Andrew and Jim, he continued.

  “Even though Vietnam is technically behind us there is much that is not open information even now, so there may be holes in this discussion that I cannot fill. Ask if you have questions, but I may not be able to answer all of them.”

  “Just tell us what you can about Kelshaw and how he and Paul Thayer were connected,” Andrew stated flatly.

  “That is, whatever you are permitted to tell us,” Father Ben added, attempting to soften Andrew’s abrupt demand.

  Evan began, “Paul Thayer began his second tour of duty in Vietnam in November of 1968. George Kelshaw had been assigned to CIA Station, Saigon. Thayer had been a military advisor to the South Vietnamese in 1964 and 1965 and had worked with Kelshaw previously. Both knew the territory well.”

  Evan drained his coffee cup and placing it carefully on the desk in front of him continued. “This time around, Colonel Thayer was assigned to headquarters Military Assistance Command Vietnam J-3 (Joint Operations). Among other duties his job was to gather information and report to an office in the Pentagon on the American strategy that was in place prior to the 1968 Tet Offensive. For a multitude of reasons the war was not going well; actually it had not been going well for some time.”

  Evan stood up and began to pace back and forth slowly as he talked. Now and then he would look at the three men facing him, take a deep breath and continue.

  “Officially the U.S. was not active in Laos, but..., do any of you here remember the Domino Theory? It was feared that Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia and all of South East Asia could conceivably come under Communist domination. Laos was the key.

  By the late 1950’s Laos was in turmoil due to Communist insurgents. After the French withdrawal from Indochina, the eight member SEATO alliance organized under the Southeast Asia Defense Treaty was created to oppose further Communist gains in Southeast Asia. But it could only intervene if all member nations agreed.

  Lacking unanimity, SEATO was ineffective, so the United States decided to do something unofficial. The CIA and the USAF Air Commandos were tagged to set up air and ground operations to help counter the Communists. Much later on, a portion of these operations would come under the direct authority of the U.S. Ambassador in Vientiane, Laos”.

  Evan commented sardonically, “Everybody was in neutral Laos; Soviet KGB, Chinese, and North Vietnamese regulars. Also Cambodian military or mercenary troops and on top of that you had the Pathet Lao, or the LPF Lao Patriotic Front, the turncoat army that randomly attacked and robbed the Laotian refugees and villagers. The tribal Laotian people were the ones who took the brunt.

  “Pathet Lao Army troops invaded villages, captured and sold strong and healthy villagers to the North Vietnamese as slave laborers. Some were sent to work on road crews maintaining the Ho Chi Minh trail while others were conscripted into the North Vietnamese Army. Everything in village life was up for grabs.”

  Evan stopped to refill his coffee cup and before he could continue Andrew used the opportunity, “You mentioned Kelshaw and Thayer were in Saigon at the same time, why are we talking about Laos?”

  “To answer your question, Andrew, to understand George Kelshaw it’s important that you know a little about the background. CIA and its mission were to work with the anti-communist factions in Laos and provide intelligence on Pathet Lao and North Vietnamese activities. We needed people who knew languages and knew the country. George Kelshaw was born in Laos and was fluent in most of the languages.”

  He went on. “Our people were located in various provinces working with locals, monitoring troop movements, communications, and supplying food and medicine to friendly tribes, like the Hmongs or Meos if you prefer, with the help of Air America. That type of aid was used to secure friendship and some alliances, and we did in fact ameliorate some of the suffering of the people.

  “Additionally, as time went on we were trying to get a handle on our MIAs and POWs while seriously monitoring the activities of the Soviets and the Chinese. They had an unspoken working relationship although militarily, things were deteriorating between Bejing and Moscow”

  Andrew broke in, “What about Chernakov? You were not surprised when I told you that Thayer’s letter referred to a Soviet military officer with him, a defector. You must have known what happened to Thayer...” Andrew stopped; it suddenly occurred to him that Neil or ‘Evan’ knew much more about Charlene Thayer’s situation than he was telling.

  “Andrew, this is one of the areas I’m not at liberty to discuss fully.

  “By the late 1960’s peace negotiations were beginning and we had hopes of prisoner exchanges. So it was imperative that we were careful to get as much information as possible on the numbers.

  “Our government had listed over 550 United States personnel as unaccounted for in Laos alone, and there was a considerable amount of uncertainty surrounding the POW/MIA question. We also had information that POWs were regularly moved around, in and out of Vietnam and Laos.

  “The Pathet Lao would not provide lists of those who had fallen into their hands, nor did they adhere to any international conventions on the treatment of prisoners or allow access by the International Red Cross. We didn’t have much to bargain with. We had a list of the names of nearly 300 MIA’s identified as unconfirmed POW’s from reliable sources in Vientiane.

  “One of our sources was told by a representative of the Pathet Lao delegation, that their leadership had a detailed accounting of American prisoners and the locations where they were being held, and that those prisoners would be released after the cease fire. If they were captured in Laos they would be returned to Laos for release. As you know it didn’t happen. Only 591 U.S. POWs were repatriated by the North Vietnamese; none from Laos.

  “The State Department had been told by a former employee of the National Security Agency that overall there could be as many as 5000 American Prisoners being held. Based on those figures, only 15 percent of American prisoners were repatriated.”

  “The Vientiane agreement which the Pathet Lao didn’t honor wasn’t signed until 1973, are you saying that before that we were working covertly for some kind of arrangement to get our people out?” A
ndrew queried.

  “Yes, Andrew; actually, our first objective was to get an accurate accounting of our prisoners; having prisoners returned of course, was the ultimate goal. We knew that our POWs were being moved in and out of country. George Kelshaw became an integral part of collecting information on the movement of these prisoners. In fact George was at one time a prisoner himself.”

  The words that Kelshaw had been a ‘prisoner’ caught each of them by surprise. They were strangely silent. Even Andrew whose mind was filled with questions was struck by the revelation that Kelshaw had been a POW. He could only guess at what information Kelshaw had carried as ‘Aunt Martha’s luggage’.

  “I cannot give you specific details of George’s entire mission, but I will say that because of his courage and determination, much more was learned about the POW’s than from any other single source.”

  Turning to Jim, Neil said,” When I told you there was more at stake than George Kelshaw’s murder, I want you to understand that George carried with him information that could have a serious impact on international relations. The picture I have described to all of you is very sketchy, I know, but I hope that you can see the implications beyond George.”

  Jim nodded soberly, “I would guess that you’re telling us that Mr. Kelshaw was carrying something with him that was pretty ‘hot’. I would also suspect that was why he was murdered and the Center was raided. Someone was looking for something. They didn’t get it and that’s why there could still be a threat to Andy and Father Ben because they were the last people to interact with him and perhaps even Mrs. Thayer. Do we know if the information is safe?”

  “Neil smiled and nodded, “I believe it is.”

  Father Ben broke his silence saying, “But surely there was more that Mr. Kelshaw was looking for...”

  “Yes, Father Lee. Much of it had to do with the betrayal of Paul Thayer and General Chernakov, but I think it would be unfair of me to discuss that aspect in Mrs. Thayer’s absence. I plan to meet with her and include her in discussions about her husband and General Chernakov.” Looking first at Andrew then to Ben he said, “I will rely on one of you to set up a meeting with Charlene Thayer; Monday evening, if possible.”

  There was that take charge tone that Andrew had heard on the phone the first time he had talked with Neil, only this time he knew that Neil was in fact in charge.”

  “Detective Savalza, do you have anything more you would care to inquire of me?”

  “No, Mr. Scott, I think you have answered any questions I would be allowed to ask regarding Mr. Kelshaw. I will say now that I’m all the more determined to find out who killed him and why,” Jim said tacitly.

  “Then I think we’re finished for today. Thank you, Father Ben and Detective Savalza. I will see you again.” Evan was standing evaluating the three men with whom he had been meeting. He was satisfied that he had covered all that could be shared in the presence of the Seattle Police Detective. Now he would have to consider what further information could be given to Mrs. Thayer, Father Lee and Kincaid.

  Driving back to the Washington Athletic Club Andrew asked, “How long will you be in town?”

  “It will depend on the investigation, of course, but I would like to finish my business in the next few days. As soon as possible I would like George’s body released. I am standing back and letting your policeman have his day. He seems very competent so I won’t get in his way. If the Department drags its feet too long though, I may have to consider other options.”

  “You mean playing the ‘federal card’, right? You have made it very clear that you don’t want it known who Kelshaw was.” Not waiting for Neil to answer, he went on. “In fact everything points to this being a robbery and murder of some poor guy who got off a merchant ship. I can understand the secrecy at first, but you have the ‘luggage’ now, so does it matter if word gets out?”

  “Andrew, consider for a moment why George Kelshaw was murdered. You have just described a scenario that seems well planned.

  “Someone knew when and how George was arriving. They knew who to look for and they obviously knew he carried something with him that was potentially dangerous to someone.

  “I have let the Seattle PD and the media run with the random attack because whoever arranged this is close and watching. When I play the ‘federal card’ as you call it, and I will have to, I will level with Savalza’s Department Head at least; but I will still maintain that we believe it to have been a chance act and make certain the Department believes that we don’t see this as an agency connection.”

  “So you think this was a ‘hit’ that was locally directed?”

  “Yes, I do so I don’t really expect there to be a problem keeping the story low key until we know more. Whoever ordered it doesn’t want publicity either.

  “I hope getting together Monday night for dinner won’t be a problem for you or Charlene Thayer. I’m sure she will want to hear whatever I can tell her.”

  “I’m sure she will; I’ll be seeing her tomorrow and mention it then.”

  Andrew dropped Neil at the WAC and decided to go directly home. He was tired and needed to assimilate the events of the last few days with what he had heard regarding George Kelshaw. He thought about Jack Hubbard and wondered how his and Kelshaw’s paths had crossed. As he turned into the garage of his apartment building he didn’t notice a man watching him from an unmarked car parked across the street from his apartment. If he had, he would have wondered why Detective Maxwell had him under surveillance.

  Chapter 7

  Sunday, September 21, 1980

  It was 6:00 AM Sunday morning when Charlene Thayer’s phone rang. Expectantly she answered and was gratified to hear Bradley Coleman’s voice. “Hello Charlene, sorry for the early call,” he said warmly. “Olivia told me you called and seemed distressed. How can I help you?”

  “Brad, thank God. You won’t believe this, but I have in my possession a letter from Paul, but it was written eight months after he died--officially that is.” She tried to present the information calmly but her voice betrayed her emotions.

  “Charlene, my dear,” he spoke soothingly, “I am sorry you are so upset. I find it unconscionable that someone would perpetrate such a cruel act. It’s outrageous; who would do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know who would do such a thing, but I do know that the letter I received was from my husband. I know his handwriting, Brad, and more than that, he was preparing to die,” she asserted.

  “Oh now, now Charlene, let’s just be calm. How did the letter come to you?” Brad asked in a concerned tone.

  “It was hand carried by a man, a stranger, to be given to me.”

  There was a short silence, then “Who was this man, Charlene?” Brad was serious now. “What was his name?”

  “His name was George Kelshaw,” Charlene was about to continue to tell of the events that followed when Brad broke in.

  “Kelshaw, did you say Kelshaw?” Brad’s tone had changed.

  Something in his voice caused Charlene to hesitate, there was something wrong.

  “Go on Charlene, I am sorry to interrupt like that.”

  “Brad, do you know this man?” she asked sharply.

  “No, no, it was just that the name sounded familiar ...go on; tell me exactly how you received the letter.”

  Charlene’s response was measured. “I would rather not discuss this anymore on the telephone; perhaps I should make a trip to Washington.”

  “Tell you what, Charlene; I have a business trip scheduled for the Pacific Northwest in a week or so. I’ll just advance my plans and be in Seattle next Wednesday and we’ll get to the bottom of this. I wouldn’t take it too seriously. I’m sure there is a logical explanation, but in the meantime I wouldn’t discuss this with anyone just yet.

  “It will be good to see you after such a long time. I wish Olivia could come with me, but unfortunately she will be visiting our daughter who has been ill. Just relax now and don’t be concerned.”

  Ch
arlene placed the telephone carefully in the cradle. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. It would be good to see Andrew today and talk with him, she decided.

  ✽✽✽

  Brigadier General Bradley H. Coleman now attached to the Defense Intelligence Agency sat down quietly and looked across the breakfast table at his wife, Olivia. Her dark hair was clasped neatly at the back of her neck and she wore a loose fitting blue garment that complimented her coloring. She was always perfectly groomed, even in the morning; he couldn’t help admiring that quality. He realized how fortunate he had been to marry Olivia. She had class, and she was beautiful.

  He had met Olivia through Paul Thayer his second year at the Academy. When Paul’s family visited him at West Point, Olivia often came with them. Her family and Paul’s were very close. Olivia and Paul had grown up together and both came from what Brad termed ‘a privileged’ background.

  She was exactly the type of woman he had always dreamed about. He was determined to overcome his impoverished childhood; and marrying a woman with breeding and education was certainly a right step.

  He had entertained such ambitions from the time that state legislator Mike Owens, who would eventually become a U.S. Senator from West Virginia, had taken him under his wing all those years ago at the Greenbrier Resort. Owens had become a surrogate father and advocate for Brad. Something he had seen in the teenager, a hunger and drive for a better life and an intellect that matched the desire, caused Owens to want to contribute in every way possible to help him achieve his goals.

  Brad was immediately drawn to Olivia. Besides being bright and beautiful, she had integrity and more importantly, she came from a good family. Brad knew that she would make the perfect career officer’s wife, and he pursued her with an ardor that she found irresistible. And she was the flawless wife that Brad knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she would be.

  This morning she had been writing notes as she drank her coffee and waited for Brad to join her for breakfast. “Coffee?” she offered, her dark lashed, violet blue eyes met his. “Did you talk with Charlene this morning?”